


How Megan Got Her Groove Back

by Orecec



Category: Family Guy (Cartoon)
Genre: Dismemberment, Drugs, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gore, Humiliation, Impregnation, M/M, Multi, Murder, Other, Rape, Revenge, Scat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-06-01 15:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15146321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orecec/pseuds/Orecec
Summary: Meg finally snaps. Peter's bullying has become too much, and Lois might just have a way to exact revenge.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theeliminator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theeliminator/gifts).



Fuck Meg Griffin.

Those three words seemed to be a short description of her life, constantly uttered to her by the family that should be loving her. Sleep offered no reprieve, nor did school. In her dreams, Peter would chase her through an impossibly deep canyon, spouting insults that echo off the rock walls, always followed by his signature, high-pitched hiheheheheheheheheh.

How cruel that she would inherit his appearance. The only feature she had inherited from her mother was her damned diagonally-cut-sandwich nose.

School was no better. The entire student body seemed to hate her, and teased her mercilessly. Her life was like a stereotypical afterschool special, where an ugly nerd would be beat for seemingly no reason. Oh, to be that nerd. At least in TV shows the nerd's tampons were never filled with baby rattlesnakes by the jocks. Or was it Peter who did that?

Meg was drawn out of her reverie by a sharp stinging pain in her taint as her underwear was stretched to comical proportions by fat, sausage-link-fingered hands. The cloth scraped along her protruding rosebud, grinding down the nugget chambered inside. The skidmarked skivvies were then stretched over her face, the tag loop hooking around her nose and squashing it like a Pig's.

"HEHA! You got skid mahks," Peter teased in his Boston drawl. "You're a real shit-head, Meg!"

Meg screamed as her nose was assaulted by a pervasive shit-stank. She sprinted across the den, attempting to flee from the stench. Slamming into the wall, she bounced back, hitting the sound system before hitting the ground with a meaty thud.

Peter ran over, quickly expelling a righteous cloud of noxious fecal fury directly into his oldest child's nasal cavity.

"Ya like dat? Well, here's dessert," he said gleefully, straining.

Frrrrrrrrrr-SPLTCH!

"Uh oh. I knew I shouldn'ta ordered the clam-filled curry burgahs." Peter Sprint-waddled up the stairs, holding his pants tight as a brown and red stain blossomed across the green fabric.

"Hey Lois...?"

"What is it, Petah?"

"Can you get some moah toilet papah at the stoah?"

"I just baught some!"

"Yeah, dis is gonna be one'a dem 13-roll poops. Ooh, get the toilet papah with the beah on it! HAHA! Beahs don't use toilet papah! How chahming! Oooh, that's why they call it dat..."

Lois came stomping down the stairs muttering obscenities. "That gahd-damned fat fahck! I shoulda married Jerome. I could be getting plowed by a fat, thick, long N- ahhh, Meg what happened to you to you?! Who did this?!"

Meg feebly waved her hand, the implication clear. Who the fuck do you think?

Lois frowned. "Well, you bettah help yah fathah befoah school. It's Take Yah Fathah to school day, and yah gonna be late if ya don't lick him clean. No fuckin' way I'm buyin' moah toilet papah."

* * * * * * * * * * *

The families' old station wagon screeched to a halt, and Meg was launched against the windshield as Peter laughed.

The two ambled up the stairs, passing Connie D'mico and her usual huge, gaping posse.

She looked straight at Peter. "Oh, hi Meg, did you lose weight?"

Her whole troupe laughed, and Meg stared at the ground, ashamed.

Her trip to the gymnasium was better than normal, with only three spitballs hitting her face as opposed to the usual twelve.

The gym was packed with stinky blue-collar dads, milling around in construction, janitor, and sewage worker outfits.

The chatter died down as the principal waddled up to the stage, tapping the microphone. "Everyone, I'd like to thank you for attending the twelfth annual who's-your-daddy event. It truly is a privilege to see all the huge, rusty cogs that make our society successful. Speaking of fat cogs, I'd like to introduce you to our event planner, Meg Griffin!"

Meg walked onto the stage, with Peter following close behind. She gave the audience a tentative wave as they stared flatly, silent.

"Ah, um, hi! My name is Meg, but, I guess you already know that. Heh heh..."

She gulped as the audience stares her down.

"Well, I figured I'd start off w-with some dad jokes. First off, how did the... No, um... Why was the chicken stuck in the gay guy? No, wait-"

The audience roared with laughter, the sound echoing across the gym as the spectators laugh, pointing at Meg.

"Ah, you like the homophobic jokes, huh?" Meg said, pride swelling in her floppy chest.

"Oh man, those kooky gays, right?" She said, throwing her hands up. The audience laughed even harder.

Suddenly, Meg feels a breeze below her navel. With a horrid feeling, she looks down. She saw her pants around her ankles. She saw her skidmarked underwear. She saw sausage-link-fingers.

She saw her tiny, flaccid cock and her shriveled bag of miniscule testacles.

Exposed. In front of the entire student body and their fathers.

The laughter fades out of her hearing, and she stares down at the pitiful prick in pure shock. Time seems to slow down, and she turns her head around. There is her father, his fingers smeared in her shit. He laughs in slow motion, taunting her like he had been every day for eighteen years.

There was a ringing sound in Megs ears as she calmly pulled up her pants, the shit-caked underoos smearing against her floppy flaps. She walked calmly, her mind only filled with one, singular purpose;

I'm gonna make that fat cunt pay.

* * * * * * * *

Meg was in the garage when Lois found her.

"So..." She started, absent-mindedly wiping a dish. "I heahd what happened today."

Meg was silent, scraping a metal file down a rusty old machete.

SCHIIIING! SCHIIIING!

Lois continued, unfazed. "I know what yah planning t' do, and I wanted to advise yah against it."

Meg tensed, angry, but before she could retaliate, Lois interrupted her. "-Because that fat fuck deserves somethin' fah worse than a machete to the neck."

Meg turned around, her eyes wide and disbelieving.

"I've had enough'a yah fathahs shit. What with all his hijinks, I've had to give daddy 'service' just to pay for repairs!"  
She spit a gray pube out, grinning sadistically.   
"But that blow was my last. I didn't swallow all that muddy old-man semen fah money this time. I did it fah this."  
She held out a container the size of an iphone+ box, and through the plastic meg could see many small syringes, pins, patches, and vials.  
"These ah experimental steroids from daddy's pharmaceutical company."  
She stared right into her daughter's eyes, a spark there that Meg had never seen before.

"Meg, we're gonna crush a Petah."


	2. The Meginning of the End

Meg winces as she feels the uncomfortable sensation of the needle plunging into her balls. Once Lois pushes down the plunger, however, her testacles explode with pain. The drugs surge through her sagging, shapeless body, digging into every cell. She drops to the ground in agony, twitching and convulsing as she leaks piss from both organs simultaneously.

Lois tosses the needle over her shoulder.

"These syringes are filled with stem cells and anabolic steroids. The stem cells will pack on to your adrenal glands, growing them. By tomorrow they'll be big enough to crack yah ribs. It'll be moah painful than givin' birth to a rabid porcupine, but it'll help us get closer to our goal. I'll see yah tommarah."

Meg thrashes and howls as Lois leaved the garage.

* * * * * * *

Meg lays on the smooth stone slab the next morning, drooling. Her body twitches now and again, her body rearranging itself while she's in a drug addled stupor.

Lois walks in, yawning, looking like a white trash zombie without her makeup on. "Alright Meg, I whipped up some meth pancakes for breakfast. If yah mouth starts burnin, spit it out; I went a little ovahboahd with the lye."

Meg darts towards the food like a savage animal, greedily stuffing the food into her mouth. She does indeed feel a burning sensation, but is too pumped to notice. The meth-cakes quickly burn through her jaw, plopping onto the ground. Meg snathes them back up, swallowing them whole. Her amped-up immune system patches the wound in seconds.

"Ohhh yeahhh," Lois hums. "This'll do juuuust fine."

* * * * * * * * *

X GON GIVE IT TO YA

*CLANGK!*

KNOCK KNOCK OPEN UP THE DOOR ITS REAL

*CLANGK*

COMES THE NON-STOP PUMP PUMP OF STAINLESS STEEL

The sound of clanking metal fills the garage. The small room is packed with the scent of oil, sweat and smegma, so much so that Lois is getting light headed.

She pushes on regardless, looking over Meg as she bench presses fifty pounds.

"YOU CALL THAT WAHK, YA WEAK LITTLE SHIT!? I'VE TAKEN COCKS BIGGER THAN YOU! MY PUSSY'S SO LOOSE THAT YOU SMACKED INTO THE DAMN WALL WHEN YOU SHOT OUT OF IT! TWELVE MORE SETS YOU FLOPPY CUNT!"

Lois angrily jams another needle into Meg. She roars, veins bulging in her head as she pumps the iron furiously. "MORE WEIGHT!" She scream, and Lois complies, adding another fifty pounds.

Meg screams and snorts, her saggy flapjacks flopping like wind socks as she

Struggles with the extra weight. Shit sprays out of her ass with each set, the meth-cakes giving her creamy diarrhea that splurts through her jeans and into her shoes. Her cock stands to attention, having grown to three inches. Her balls flex and tighten, pulsing as they ramp up sperm production and shoot out the excess every five minutes. Lois tugs her collar, whistling. She hasn't seen this much shit and cum since she was gang-raped by the Harlem Globetrotters. The fun had ended when Curly Neil shit in her pussy. Goddamnit Curly, every time. If shit could get me pregnant, I'd be sitting pretty with that gangly stud.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

THERE'S VOMIT ON HIS SWEATER ALREADY

*CLUNGK!*

MOM'S SPAGHETTI

*CLUNGK!*

Meg speeds up her leg lifts, chomping down on a chalky energy bar as the music blares. The garage door is open, streams of her shit cascading majestically down the driveway, soaking Brian's Prius with her manly flow.

Her puffy pussy flaps jiggle and flop with each leg lift, slapping against the leather of the machine's chair.

Dead leaves swirl into the garage. Meg had been working out practically non-stop since summer, and she hadn't bathed once. Used needles litter the ground, as do the tattered remains of her clothes. She is Chris's size now, her skin starting to bulge and shape. Her tits are gradually being taken over by muscle, and milk dribbles out of her puffy nips.

The copious amount of steroids are not doing much for her complexion, and her face is covered in sweaty pustules and zits.

Standing up, she cracks her neck, flexing her deltoids. Lumbering over to the corner, she picks up a filthy sex doll, emptying her balls into it in a single thrust. Her six inch prick pulses splendidly, the glans swelling as she deposits her manly seed into the rubber pussy.

Grunting, she yanks her cock out, where it flops free, dripping cum and smegma onto the floor.

Stomping over to the table, she clumsily snatches a syringe, injecting a potent concoction of bull shark testosterone, meth, lactic acid reducers, and tiger penis. She hears blood rush through her ears as she pushes down the plunger, and her vision tints red as she slams another hundred pounds on the deadlift.

Clambering onto it, she launches into her routine, pushing and pulling the weights at lightning speed. Her bones pop and creak, unused to the strain.

With a loud pop, her shoulder dislocates, and in a matter of seconds, she snaps it back in to place with sheer muscle.

Tossing the weights, she walks over to the table and empties a bottle of protein powder into her Gatorade keg, then lifts it over her head, shakes it, and guzzles the whole thing in one go.

Satisfied, she burps, tooth-plaque dislodging from the force and splattering the garage wall.

Meg's new addams apple bobs as she swallows the last of the drink. A cool fall breeze sweeps into the garage, cooling the sweat on Meg's body and relaxing her.

Eyes drooping, the lunk slowly falls to the ground. Gobs of smegma splatter everywhere as she hits the ground with a thud, taking a much needed sleep.


	3. The Thiccening

"-Eg. Meg. MEG!"

Meg slowly opens her eyes to see a spider scuttling across the garage floor, right in front of her nose.

"Oh, hi, mister spider," she says deleriously. "Did you know that you sound just like my mom?"

"It's me, yah idiot," Lois' voice says from the door. Meg lifts her head to see her mother laying down a plate of meth-cakes. "Yah bahdy is comin' along great," she chirps. It's true; the months of constant exercise and drugs had done wonders. Her belly still has pudge, but has a manly six-pack underneath. her thighs are thick and dense, with bulging, compact muscle lining her limbs. Wiry hair encircles her lengthened shaft, reacing halfway up the eight-inch shaft.

"Yah should be able to handle the accelerator now," Lois adds.

"The... Accelerator?" Meg asks.

"It's the serum that will push your body past it's limits," Lois clarifies. "This will help us carry out our plan. Now stick out yah tongue."

Meg tentatively complies, wincing as a needle peirces it. She feels a burning sensation as the serum spreads throughout her body before every nerve lights up in excruciating pleasure. Her every muscle is ripped apart, growing bigger, and her bones widen and pop, lengthening. Her jaw stretches, becoming square and manly.

The massive balls between her legs become bigger, swelling to become the size of cabbages, sloshing with cum. Her bell-end plumps up, dragging the shaft down to her knees. Her breasts jiggle and reform, settling as droopy flab atop her marvelous new pecs. She grows splendid deltoids, and she writhes on the ground squirting from the painful pleasure.

Her foot-long limp shaft sprays cum in the air, her balls making too much sperm.

When the fountain finally subsides, meg opens her eyes, taking in a deep breathbof air. The world seems cleared, sharper, and she even can hear the pitter patter of cockroach feet in the kitchen. A fly buzzes in front of her, and her hand darts forward, squishing it between thumb and forefinger.

Meg looks down at her body, her eyes widening. She has a thick, furry trail of tears, and her auburn bush has grown wild, forming panties made of wiry pubes. Her balls have finally slowed down, and her flaccid dick has shriveled down to a foot. Her foreskin extends a further foot, and she can feel her cum hardening and joining the smegma in the stinky pouch. This should prevent her from leaking, at least.

Meg grabs a hose clamp, placing it over her foreskin and twisting it shut, locking the stinky girl-gunk inside. Suddenly, her balls throb, and she notices them for the first time. They are no longer wrinkly. The massive orbs have swelled and stretched the skin taught, and they now dangle low, as big as k-cup breasts.

"K-cup, huh?" Meg muses, a plan forming in her head. Gathering the massive sperm factories, she hauls them up over her back to her chest, and they hang there. Meg stretches her bra over them, then puts on one of Peter's shirts. They look just like tits! Better yet, the ball skin smoothes out her shoulders, hiding her deltoids and making her look sexy!

Getting another idea, meg grabs a knife from the kitchen, gobbling up a fistfull of meth-cakes for courage. Taking a deep breath, she plunges the knife through the foreskin. She grits her teeth as pain races through her. Stretching the tube sock dick sheath, she puts each of her legs through the holes on either side, and they compress her muscles, the skin filling in the creases and making them look plump and smooth.

When she rolls up her jeans, they cling tight, accentuating her form.

"All right!" Meg exclaims. "But... I'm still a butterface... If only i could... Hrgggghnk..."

Meg pushes and squeezes her face, and to her suprise, the bone cracks! Mucus dribbles out of her cracked sinuses, pooling under her skin and making her face rounder and more appealing, hiding her manly man-jaw. Without any hesitation, Meg punches herself in the face, and her nose shatters and hangs there like a limp sausage. She takes a piece of sticky putty and curls her nose upwards around it, turning it into the perfect pretty-girl-pug-noses. You know the ones.

An evil grin spreads across Meg's face, And she sprints down the sidewalk towards school at a brisk forty-five miles per hour.

* * * * * * * * *

After a quick stop at the local bondage shop for a new outfit, Meg arrives at school clad in a pink latex bodysuit, replete with lewd thigh high boots. The usual crowd of highschoolers part before her as she struts forward, their jaws gaping.

Once she is at the top of the stairs, she turns, rubbing her legs together and moaning.

"Oh boys," she coos. "Care to join me in the locker room~?"

Neil Goldman wolf whistles. "Yesh! Today ish the day I finally loshe my virginity!"

And it would have been, if he wasn't stomped to death by the ensuing stampede.

* * * * * * * * *

The locker room is packed, engulfed by the stench of sweat, dick and Axe deodorant. Meg surveys the crowd of boys, eagerly licking her lips. Turning to face the door, she grabs the handle, snapping one end and bending it and sticking it into the concrete, sealing it shut.

She turns around to face the stunned crowd, posing in a wide stance.

She flexes.

Her latex suit is ripped to shreds, and her foreskin rips off of her legs, revealing the godly muscle below. Her balls fly up over her shoulders, swinging back in an arc and smashing Connie D'mico's boyfriend in the face. He flies across the room into an empty locker, and it closes shut with a clang as blood oozes from the bottom.

Meg's face flies back into position, her healing abilities increased by the steroids. Her nose unrolls and her jaw pops and reshapes, regaining it's square and manly splendor.

Meg grunts, and her cock springs to life, splattering the crowd with smegma. It swells to it's full two feet, as thick and red and tasty as a coke can.

Meg cracks her knuckles.   
"Revenge is sweet. And in this case, probably salty and bitter, too."


	4. Seeding of the Aggressors

Meg's meaty, mouthwateringly monstrous manhood stands proudly at attention, a full two feet in length, dripping with cloudy, stinky precum. With the foreskin peeled back, it is displayed fully in all of its cheesy splendor. Thick smegma steams as it hits the cool air, and the locker room fills up with heady dick stench.

The group of boys recoil, staring in shock at Meg's manly muscles as pheromones from her meghood assault their brains.

The lascivious length twitches, splurting a shot of precum that smacks Connie D'mico's boyfriend, Kyle, square in the face.

Power exudes from Meg's very being, and the group is suddenly acutely aware of the fact that she has been their punching bag for the past decade.

"So," Meg booms, her voice reverbating off the lockers. "Who's first?"

"First for what?" A boy in the front row asks.

Meg steps closer to him, her turgid cock pressing up against his nose as his eyes roll back from the euphoric stench. "Their seeding," she coos sensually, her voice a deep warble.

Immediately all fingers point to Kyle, who is still trying in vain to wipe the precum off of his face. Meg stomps purposefully across the room, her footsteps cracking the linoleum as she does so. She comes to a stop in front of him.

Kyle slowly drops the shirt he was wiping himself with, suddenly aware of a glorious, mind-assaulting stench. He turns around, only to find himself face to face with a massive, throbbing penis.

"Strip," she growls.

"Y-y-y-you don't scare me," Kyle stutters. "You're still just a dirty, low-class sow!

I bet those muscles aren't even rea-"

Meg drops to her knee, launching her fist into an uppercut. Her meaty fist whistles as it flies through the air.

It connects with his balls, and there is a smack, a pop, and a scream. Kyle is launched straight out of his boxers, his head crashing through the paneled ceiling and caving in against a pipe. He falls to the ground in a heap before dizzily standing up.

"Urlg... Mommy, I... I don't feel so good," he slurs. The reason is soon apparent. He falls to his hands and knees, and his head jiggles, the skull pulverized and the brain scrambled. His ballsack has been punched straight up into his body. He quivers, his stomach rumbling.

THHHHHHRRRRRRPPPPHHHHT!

His pucker protrudes from his firm buttcheeks, and a nugget launches itself onto the ground. Now successfully unstoppered, liquid shit pours out, corn intermixed with it like kayakers on a brown waterfall. The flow thins, and two small white sacks the size of marbles fall out, deformed and slapping against the floor, slowly circling the shower drain before falling down it. Meg had punched him so hard that he shit his tiny balls out.

He isn't finished yet though, and with a massive fart, squiggly pink chunks plop onto the floor. The mushed chunks of brain that once held Kyle's personality, ambitions, and manliness now ooze cerebrospinal fluid on the dirty linoleum.

His face falls to the floor into Meg's precum, grinning in ecstasy as his anal walls are stimulated.

Meg lumbers up behind him. "Enough foreplay," she booms, flicking his floppy clit-dick, now shriveled from the absence of his balls. She thumbs the ridge of her massively protruding glans, grunting. She presses the tip of her crown to his butthole, then his imploded nutsack. "Which shall be first? Your boi-pussy? Or your ball-pussy?"

Upon hearing no response, she growls, lubing her penis with shit, blood, and cerebrospinal fluid. "Far be it from me to keep! UNG! A LADY! WAITING! AAAGH MY GOOOOD! This juicy butt-pussy!"

She grunts as she shoves her cock in past the tip, then with another shove, the glans. Kyle's hole stretches along with the massive cap.

SHOVE!

His taut ring slurps down the corona.

SHOVE!

His pliant pucker glides down the veiny shaft.

SHOOOOOOOOVE!

His pink pooper tears as Meg's thick rod of steamy ham slams in balls deep. Her cap painfully straightens the bend in his colon, and her balls are slurped right up by Kyle's ball-pussy. The empty, inverted sac is moist and warm, and Meg's powerful manly balls are serviced and lovingly massaged by Kyle's wet sack hole.

Each thrust makes his clit-dick swing, the weeping head gratefully smacking the dangling lips of her girthy quim.

Despite being so powerful, this is Meg's first conquest, and her peak is already approaching. Her balls clench and flex, encouraged by the massage to make lots and lots of stinky sperm. Kyle gibbers and drools as what remains of his brain is knocked around his shattered skull.

Meg's face scrunches up as she clenches hard, allowing her milky semen to build up inside her muscled shaft. The head of her turgid tummy tickler swells to the size of a fist, and with one final retreat, Meg slams her penis into him so deep that her pubis shatters his tailbone.

"GRRRRAAAAAAAAH!" Meg roars, her flood gates opening. Dense jism erupts from the puffy meatus, inundating Kyle's insides with thick, pungent babby batter.

His stomach swells, struggling to contain the rapids. Then, his ball-pussy gives one last involuntary squeeze as he reaches his own orgasm.

The carress squeezes out the final spurt of cum from Meg's massive babby batter bakers, and they wobble and quiver as they dump the rest of their potent load into Kyle's manhole.

Unable to contain the godly goo, his body funnels it through him, and a veritable fountain of warm seed spews heartily from mouth of the immasculated bully. The white river flows into the drain, down into the murky depths within, the sperm swimming happily in search of their prey.

Kyle dribbles and chokes as his throat is stained with sperm.

Finally spent, Meg huffs, withdrawing her now-floppy member from the dominated pooper. She looks around, surveying the room. She notices tents in the shorts of some of the boys; others are stained with petrified-piss and fear-feces. The mix of terrified stares and lip-biting anticipation only serve to stiffen her splendid length, which once more oozes cowper fluid.

"You seem excited," Meg rumbles to one flamboyant boy. "That won't do. That won't do at all."

Meg puts her meaty hands on the boy's shoulders, caressing them gently. She leans down, her lips grazing his ear as she whispers. "Ready to get penetrated?" She purrs. The boy nods. "Good," Meg replies.

Meg lifts her leg high up behind her head, her massive testes wobbling. With a rush of wind, her leg flies down so fast that it splits the atmosphere, ionizing atoms and enveloping her leg in sparks.

It connects with his pitiful privates, disintegrating them immediately and crushing his erect cock beyond repair. Electricity shoots into his body, frying his brain and bringing his anus to a toasty hundred and fifteen degrees.

His bowels let loose, and a lube-covered, thrusting, vibrating Mandingo dildo plops out.

Pleased at the pre-stretched hole, Meg rips the boy's shorts off, accidentally pulling his mangled genitals off with it.

The boy lets out a scream of what could be pain or pleasure before Meg punches her splendor into his pelvic colon, Mr. Hands style. She drives the length home, and it pushes through his small body, folds of meat wrapping around her manhood. Meg comes even quicker this time, not wanting to wait to seed the rest of her new bitches.

By the time Meg has filled her tenth boy, her body is covered with sweat. Her sweaty quim pumps out lewd juices that saturate the air with pheremones, and the invisible aphrodisiacs slowly work their way through the ventilation.

On the opposite side of the hall, the girls are just finishing rinsing off the sweat from gym class.

Connie D'mico lifts her nose, sniffing the air. "Do you smell that?" She asks the other girls. "I smell cum..."

"Really?" Another girl replies. "Are you sure it's not just the bleach they clean the floors with?"

Connie shakes her head. "Maybe it's just the load I swallowed earlier. Anyway, what the hell happened to maggie riffin?"

"Meg Griffin."

"Whatever."

"Her like, dad pulled her pants down on stage...? Apparently she's either a futanari or she's got a huge clit? That was, like, um, two months ago? Get with the like, program...?"

"So, where did she get the money for that kind of surgery?

"Her gramps is rich, so maybe he gave it to her."

Connie scoffs. "Either way we need to do something, like, quick. She's hotter than us!"

The rest of the girls are in on the conversation by now.

"How about," Connie ponders. Her eyes light up. "Let's steal the boys' dirty underwear, put it in a locker, and lock her in it! Then we take pictures and frame her."

The rest of the girls nod their assent. Still in their towels, they pitter-patter across the cold hallway, their slender feet slapping against the floor. Connie approaches the door, giving it a hard pull. It's stuck fast, and even three of the dykes can pry it open.

Connie's eyes lay on the open vent on the top. The slats are only three inches apart!

An idea forms in Connie's head. Shoving her neatly manicured fingers unceremoniously down her throat, she reatches, hurling up her breakfast of gluten free wheat thins and cum.

She slims down just enough, and with the other girls' help, she squeezes through the vents.

Once inside, she begins hauling herself forward, cursing herself for not putting on her clothes before this venture. Beams of light shine through slats up ahead, and with them, horrible, haunting noises.

Connie crawls forth, peeking through the slats.

The moment she sees the carnage withing the locker room, she screams. Dozens of boys lie with their clothes in tatters, viscous cum oozing from both ends. All of them have had their balls crushed, ripped, or otherwise maimed, but despite that, their moans of agony are laced with extreme pleasure.

The scream draws the attention of a muscular monster currently balls deep in a pacific islander twink, and with a growl it slides it's member out with a POP! Seed sprays from the loose hole, and the boy is dropped like a used onahole.

In a flash, a meaty fist flies through the vent, closing around Connie's head and yanking her out, her arms, legs and chest lacerated by the jagged metal. She stares wide at the figure grasping her head.

"Meg?!" Connie gasps. The pink hat, the glasses, the sandwich nose, all the same as Meg's. There's just the tiny issue of inhumanly ripped muscle and watermelon sized balls.

Meg grins maniacally, her eyes wide. Her drooping member quickly springs to life, precum already welling at the tip. She sensually smears it over Connie's slit.

"Finally," Meg rumbles. "You saved me the trouble of looking for you."

She tongue kisses the smaller woman, and Connie's mouth is filled with the slimy appendage, tasting faintly of meth and pancakes.

Despite herself, Connie moans, unable to contain her excitement about such a masculine cock touching her. Her female instincts are kicked into gear by Meg's muscles and pheremones, and her legs part to offer her weeping slit. The glans of the ferocious cock stick to her folds, pushing in and stretching her more then she has ever been stretched before. The head parts her vaginal canal, moving steadily until reaching the roadblock that is her cervix. The cap rubs the sacred gate, the meatus lining up perfectly with the cervical opening. The penis jackhammers slowly, pushing and working until the pliant cervix smooches and suckles the head of the cock. 

Now comfortably situated, Meg slams into the young woman, rattling her ovaries and knocking several eggs loose.  
In a flash, her shaft is buried balls deep in the wet heat, and with a roar, Meg let's loose the sperm of war. Cum flies through Connie's fallopian tubes, splattering the eggs within and penetrating them lovingly.

Connie screams as she feels her womb flooded, and she drops to the ground, sliding off the penis with a loud slurping noise. She falls face first into a chunk of her boyfriend's brain, quickly turning around and scuttling away. Meg is having none of it however, and she grabs the other girls legs and pulls her back.

Meg grins evilly, placing her powerful penis at the puckered pink pooper of the pounded preppie princess. "I was going to use lube, but such a BAD girl deserves to be punished."

The halls of the school ring with screams as Meg exacts her delicious vengeance.


	5. Ask Not for Whom is Gon' Git Fucked

The sky over Quahog is a murky green, the air tinged with ozone and an eerie mist on the streets. The town is silent. The streets, empty. All the residents have either fled the approaching monsoon or locked themselves up tight. The school had followed suit, and the windows are boarded up tight, student's faces illuminated by candles and dimly lit screens. The occasional scraping of a spoon against tin rings through the air, but for the most part, the school is quiet, comfortable, and safe. Nothing in, nothing out.

On the worst possible night in the school's history.

Slowly, rain droplets fall from the sky, and in a matter of moments the air is thick with a torrential downpour. The drumming of the rain on the roof grows in frequency until it blends together into a low, continuous hum. The windows rattle and shake behind the boards, and the wind whistles banefuly.

Down the hall, in the main office, the janitor, physical education teacher, secretaries and principal all work busily, piling furniture against the glass wall that looks out into the main hall. The janitor glances at the CCTV screen, and his ruddy face pales in terror. "This can't be real, this can't be real, this can't be-"

"Shut it!" The P.E. teacher booms. "We need to get these barricades up before that thing gets here!"

Lightning cracks across the sky, and a terrible boom shakes the building. The lights flicker, dying moments later and plunging the school into darkness.

"Turn on the auxillary power," the principal orders. "There should be just enough to get the cameras up and running."

The staff complies, flicking breaker switches and smashing buttons frantically. The screen flickers to life, illuminating the scene in room 2A.

Blood. So much blood. The secretaries turn their heads, spilling the contents of their stomachs across the floor. The classroom onscreen is filled with moaning, unrecognizable hunks of flesh. All of the girls seem to be more or less intact, their only injuries being broken hips and inflated, decimated vaginas dripping with seed. The boys are not so lucky. Crushed balls litter the floor, and every male student lies moaning, gibbering, and fingering their stretched and bleeding buttholes. Chunky yellow sperm drips from the ceiling in wet wads and gooey ropes, and the entire class screams in pain and ecstasy.

"Where is she?!" The Principal shouts.

"Over here..."

The principal rushes to the monitor, staring intently at the gruesome scene before him.

Meg griffin has two lithe, sexy teenagers in her meaty fists, and her massive legs are foot-fucking their vaginas, clearly visible through their toned stomachs. Once the bitches are sufficiently stretched, Meg slams them down on her splendid length, shoving her way into their sacred wombs and ripping their fallopian tubes with her girth as she spews potent seed within their breeding cavities. Shit trickles down her muscular legs, and her manly body drips with sweat. The air is permeated with her pheremones, and they zap the other girls' uterus' with pleasureful and euphoric sensations, the potent manly odor kicking their ovaries into overdrive. The mottled egg sacs spew ovum at a fever pitch, and soon the class is unable to run away due to the intense pain of their ovulation ovarydrive.

The teachers in the administrative office can do nothing but sit and watch the lewd carnage unfold. Meg works her way through each classroom, the heavy rain masking the sound of breeding from the next class.

When he has finally seen as much as he can stomach, the principal turns away. His eyes are wild, his breathing erratic. "I'll be damned if I'll die here with you idiots!" He shouts, sweat running down his bald head. With a running waddle, he flings himself through the glass, plunging down twelve feet. His considerable mass breaks much of his fall, but it still doesn't prevent his leg from breaking upon a rock. He screams, frantically scrabbling for purchase on the wet ground as the strong wind tugs at his clothes.

Suddenly, lightning illuminates the entire sky, and two thundering booms echo through his body. A shadow falls across him, and he stops, trembling, slowly lifting his head.

That explains the second boom.

Meg's massive, hairy, stinky feet sink into the ground several inches, and she looks down at him with an unreadable expression. The Principal's lower lip quivers, and his slacks go warm as his trousers are indelibly stained with the misery of flight. He looks down, his eyes bugged as his heart drops. The severity of his situation dawns on him, and he realizes that the years of turning a blind eye to Meg's torment have a price, and he had reached the end of his tab. It's time to pay up.

"Class... IS IN SESSION!" She roars.

Meg lifts a meaty leg and brings it down hard on the Principal's unbroken leg. Her fiot sinks a full two feet into the mud, and with a sickening SCHELURKP! The pudgy limb is ripped from its owner. The man screams, his cries of pain drowned out by the raging storm around them. Meg lifts her foot from the ground, flipping the man onto his upper back. With no foreplay or lube, she squats over him, and quickly plunges into his grey pucker in a splendid mating press.

He wheezes as Meg's girlmeat presses on his insides, the bulbous bell-end punching up into his stomach. She slams into him mercilessly, her massive shaft and well-defined ridge slapping a sow's pleasure into his lewd hole. The thick slab of meat drags his rectum in and out, an elderly cock-sleeve for her godly glans and shaft.

Meg slams into him so hard that her heavy balls emit a sonic boom, smashing into his butt and turning his tailbone into fine dust. Meg shits as she breeds the rotund male, and shit-rivulets run down the lawn and into the Principal's hairy ears.

A final crack of lightning turns night into day, and the last thing he sees is Meg's scowling face, her jaw jutted and her veins bulging as she fills the adult's impure cavern with steaming ropes of milky seed. She withdraws, and his battered behind smacks the ground with an splatter of semen. The thick, potent load mixes with the blood from his femoral artery.

Dark spots dance across the Principal's vision, and his ears ring with a cyclical, bassy sound. His consciousness ebbs and flows, slowly heading towards nonexistence.

Meg hocks a loogie directly into his open mouth, and the principal's eyes flutter and shut as his oxygen-starved brain cells wriggle and die. His hearts thumps erratically, one final, orgasmic death throe sending a spurt of seed from his shriveled member directly into his eyes as he perishes.

Meg cracks her neck.

"Class dismissed."


	6. Ready to Rumble

Class Thirteen has seen better days.

Jism drips from every orifice, the yellow, hardening cum having already suffocated some of the unlucky ones. The surviving students have no hope of regaining their control of their excretory faculties, their various holes stretched so far that no cock besides Meg's could hope to satisfy them.

The girls' ovaries soak in the dense cum, squealing every so often as they ovulate and are quickly impregnated.

The floor shakes, and globs of cum shake loose from the ceiling, signifying Meg's return. The hulking beast that is -or was- Meg Griffin surveys the carnage, huffing in approval as she counts up her new breeding sows. Fourteen in total, each with at least a half-dozen eggs churning through their young, nubile wombs. Even assuming only half of the eggs are implanted, that is still a splendid crop of forty-two young.

Meg stomps over to the group of boys huddled in the corner, nursing their abused orifices and lamenting the loss of their balls.

"You!" Meg points a veiny, meaty finger at the group. "Make sure these cunts carry these babies to term, and make sure all of my young are well fed. Shouldn't be too hard; the hormones in my cum will have you squirting milk like a bovine porn star."

The group frantically nods in unison, knowing it would mean their demise to refuse this monster's orders. Meg kicks one sadistically to vent her energy, grinning as his one remaining ball breaks loose. The floor is littered with the small white sacks, and Meg crushes them as she stomps out of the class. The storm is still raging, and the noise masked the screams of the raped and ruined.

Satisfied that the pleasure, pain, and hormone-filled cum would keep them sedentary, Meg moves on to the next class. It's been four minutes since her last orgasm, and she already has a massive load chambered. Her thick, meaty cock is already stiffening, growing lighter and redder as the flesh expands. Her balls tighten up, engorging as they ramp up sperm production in preparation for the impending flood.

Meg makes quick work of the gym's doors. She slams her meaty fist into the wall, crushing it and grabbing a rebar. She twists it around the handles to the door, moving on to the next, then the next. Once all the exits are blocked, she hurries up the stairs, heading for the roof. As she steps out onto the second floor, she notices a girl with twintails and braces staring at her, to frightened to move.

Meg purrs, her obscene, inhuman erection growing ever more turgid, bouncing as she walks. As she reaches the girl, she grabs a ponytail in each fist, yanking her face down. Her cock head smears her nostrils with pre-cum, and the girl's eyes role as the hormones surge through her bitch body.

With no pomp or circumstance, Meg flexes the member, allowing the head to become literally rock-hard, and slams it into the unlucky student's mouth. Teeth fly everywhere, torn clear or chipped in half.

The abused mouth fills with blood, lubricating Meg's beefy member.

She hisses as the ruins of the girl's teeth scrape her veiny shaft. Clearly, she had not thought this out.

Withdrawing, Meg rips the girl's clothes off, pressing her thick glans against her beef curtains. For once, the insertion is slow, and the hulking beast takes time to enjoy the pleasurable fuck session.

Meg's balls hit thighs, and she looks down, surprised. Normally she has to rip a cunt before she can get balls-deep, but this one accepted her Meghood with surprising ease and grace. It wraps itself around her, the velvet, pleated walls massaging the organ.

Meg groans, pulling back to look at the girl. She wasn't exactly drop-dead gorgeous, but she had her own beauty, one that exudes kindness from every pore. Her vagina undulates around the thick shaft, her body enthusiastic about servicing this turgid stalk of salty meat. Meg spins her around and lifts her by the crook of her knees, jackhammering her into oblivion. The girl moans and shrieks, tearing holes in the air with her high-rent keens.

Meg moans in bliss, feeling every bump and pleat tenderly kissing her cap and shaft. This girl is a perfect fit. Could she be the one? Could she be the one to sate Meg's lust? To kiss her and let her know that she isn't a monster?

Meg spins her around and kisses her passionately, pumping vigorously. The dense, pungent sperm in her epydidimus swims heartily through her boy-tubes, finally reaching the prostate. It secretes a sweet, salty liquid that acts as the water in the water slide of Meg's cock, and the happy, excited sperm fly through the meaty flume.

Meg's glans inflates, and the other girl's cervix drops down and starts suckling the meatus, sensing an impending wave of stinky juice. With a loud groan, Meg lets loose the sperm of war and they fly through the cervix, the tsunami of sperm crashing into the womb so hard that you would think it was a japanese nuclear power plant.

The hardened army of powerful sperm fills the moist cave, swimming through the ovarian tubes faster than a speeding bullet. They crash into the ovaries, mercilessly battering them as more and more creamy splendor is launched from Meg's manly meat-rocket. The bountiful hormones soak into the lewd, bumpy egg factories, and in no time eggs are being pumped out like turds after taco Tuesday.

Meg's knees give out and she topples, falling on top of the girl who is mercifully unharmed.

"I love you," Meg whispers, kissing her tenderly. With one last spurt, Meg grabs the girl's twintails and pulls on them, pulling her down balls deep on her monster cock.

RRRRIIIIP!

Upon hearing a horrible ripping sound, Meg looks down. The twintails are in each of Meg's hands, half of a face attached to each bundle of strands.

"Oops," Meg says, wincing. She milks her penis a bit more, coaxing a thick glob out so that it plugs up the cervix, trapping her dutiful swimmers. She pulls out and empties the remaining chunky paste onto the girl's head, placing the skin back on and patting it into place.

"There," Meg says, standing up. "Good as new... Sort of."

The girl gurgles.


	7. Mister Bean

Meg makes her way up to the roof, smashing the door open with a blow from her mighty shaft. She strides with purpose, stomping across the gravel laid on the roof as the rain drenches her pink hat and muscled body. The cold water has no effect on her thick, turgid splendor; it pulses heartily, steam rising off of the manly stalk.

She passes ciggarettes and condoms, needles and bottles, and all sorts of unsavory things left by libidinous rapscallions over the years.

Finally, she reaches the gym skylights, peering down through them. The students seem to be blissfully unaware that the all the doors are held shut by strong iron bars. Meg grins. Perfect.

Smashing through the glass with her bare foot, the shards rain down, shredding the flesh of the unlucky few standing below. Meg smashes a meaty fist through the roof, grabbing an electrical wire and letting out an uncharacteristic giggle as the current surges through it, the feeble electrons unable to stop the manly heart beating beneath where her bosom used to lie. With a yank, she rips the cord out, and the whole school plunges into darkness.

Wasting no time, Meg jumps through the broken skylight, landing on the shredded, moaning bodies directly below with a wet, meaty smack. The students turn, facing the spot of darkness where the sound comes from as the wind whistles and rain pounds the floor.

Then, suddenly, a bolt of lightning lights up the sky, and a ray of light shines through the smashed skylight for half a second. Meg's wide, muscular body is illuminated, the corded ropes of fibrous tissue bulging among pronounced veins spiderwebbing the skin. Her indecent protuberance stands tall, mostly horizontal but with a slight upward curve. The thickness is uniform throughout the lewd staff of manly splendor, and the balls are taught, almost clinging to the shaft. It pulses and retracts slightly, just enough to disappear beneath the wrinkled hood. It pops out like a groundhog on the first day of spring, sporting a thick white coat of cheese clinging to the tip, the hood of her hot rod already brimming with more. Her cap is massive, providing a large corona that ensures the penis doesn't slip out too easily on the way out, and mercilessly assaults the g-spot on the way in. The veins protrude like thick vines clinging to a tree, the snaking vessels allowing pulsing stimulation to Meg's mate. The underside is huge and well-defined, sticking out and giving the dick even more stretching capabilities. Each time Meg clenches her lower muscles, the bulbous cap grows even more red, swelling up to fist-sized proportions. The member jumps with each heartbeat, and with little effort Meg can bounce it up and down, inflate the head or expand the shaft. It is the end-all to human reproduction; the pinnacle of evolution culminating with this set of male organs that can impregnate any female, anytime, with absolute certainty. The godly cock shoots ropes of pleasure into any mate, turning them into fuck-holes that can never be satisfied with a mere man's puny penis, ensuring that they return to Meg to relapse into the bliss of addicktion.

All this registers among the students in just a second. The light disappears, bathing the gymnasium in darkness once more. The students are silent, unwilling to believe the glorious monstrosity they just witnessed is real. Then, it happens. A glass shatters, and with it, the spell of silence. All at once, the students scream in terror, rushing every which way to escape the godly creature they just witnessed.

They trample over each other, they push and shove and kick and scream and cry, another dozen killed in the stampede of converse shoes and slutwear. They pile against the doors like moths to a flame, only to find that they won't budge an inch. Panicked desperate screaming rings through the gymnasium, pleasing Meg's sadistic tendencies. A hunt with feeble prey is no hunt at all. She can smell the fear in the air; the disparate scent of sweat and piss and pure, mad adrenaline.

Meg's balls swell happily.

She traces a ripened smell to the back of the gym, homing in on the scent of nylon stockings and palpable despair. There at the back, huddled behind the bleachers, is miss Crabgrasstein, the forty-year-old social studies teacher. The musty smell around her indicates that her cunt has not been bred for a long while; perhaps ever.

Meg rips the bleachers away, and they slide across the gym, killing a few unlucky students and pinning the rest to the wall. Meg grabs miss Crabgrasstein and shoves her tongue down her throat, kissing her hungrily. The woman's eyes roll up, her lashes fluttering as her clit grows erect and is enveloped by Meg's dick hole with only thin nylon separating them. Meg reaches down and rips the nylon open, grasping her shaft and pushing her meatus onto the bean. Once again the nub pops into Meg's urethra, and the both of them groan with pleasure. Meg clenches down, and her cap expands while tightening it's grip on the sensitive bitch-peanut. The clitoral hood is stretched, covering Meg's cap and providing a splendid suction as she pistons her pee-hole on the pink cluster of nerves.

Meg hoots towards the sky, bliss rolling through her dick and pelvis as she is assaulted with this new, incredible sensation that is like nothing she has ever felt. Miss Crabgrasstein wails, her knees bowlegged and shaking as she stands on the balls of her feet while holding her skirt up. She has a manic, toothy grin on her face, the grin of a bitch broken by pleasure. The look someone might get if they injected themselves with a bottle-full of heroin and ecstasy.

Suddenly, they both buck into each other, shakes wracking their frames as they cum hard. Meg's sperm flies everywhere, splattering the both of them due to her cum-gun's muzzle being blocked. The white wave coats the floor and the nearby wall, her balls shrinking with every masculine spurt until they are empty, withered raisins.

Meg collapses on top of her mate, panting as the powerful sperm swims down to the wrinkled old vagina. The pool of semen retracts, the entire massive load enticed by the faint smell of an old yet fertile egg. Ounce after ounce, liter after liter, the sperm pack themselves inside, paying no mind to the woman's groans of pain as her belly swells until her stomach carries a cum-baby. Meg peels back her foreskin, dipping her cock into the stuffy quim and plugging the cervix with her yellowed smegma.

Meg grins, her teeth glinting in the moonlight. One down, four-hundred-seventy-five to go.


End file.
